


Surviving

by felisblanco



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Power Imbalance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-12-30
Updated: 2004-12-30
Packaged: 2018-10-20 07:24:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10657728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felisblanco/pseuds/felisblanco
Summary: Spike is a troubled youngster (age 17), Liam is a social worker that has to accommodate him on Christmas Eve. Things get... tense.





	Surviving

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://piksa.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://piksa.livejournal.com/)**piksa**  
>  Requested: Spike is a troubled youngster (age 17), Liam is a social worker that has to accommodate him for a while  
> Three things you would like in your fic: Daddy!kink, spanking  
> Two things you would prefer not to see: non-con  
> Tone: Smut  
> Rating Preference: NC-17 please
> 
> Author’s note: Didn’t manage to include the spanking, just would have seemed wrong somehow the way the story played out. The tone is more angsty than smutty and the Daddy!kink is probably more of a turn off than on. And above it all hovers the memory of a non-con past. So, definitely not what was asked for. I tried to kick the bunny in the head but it refused to follow the guidelines and I am so sorry about that. I'll try make it up to you someday. *hugs*
> 
> [ETA. I'm a bad, bad kitty. Once again I forgot to thank my wonderful beta, [](http://sangpassionne.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://sangpassionne.livejournal.com/)**sangpassionne** for her good work. I swear there's something missing in my brain. Sorry baby, it wasn't intentional.]

“ _This_ is where you live?”

“Jeez, I’m sorry. My housekeeper went home for the holidays.”

Spike ignored the sarcastic tone and dumped his bag on the floor. Not that there was much in it. A couple of t-shirts, a few CDs and some dirty socks. His whole life measured in crap. Fuck it. Fuck it all.

His emotions were so mixed up he felt dizzy. Anger, fear and humiliation swirled in his head until he was so strung up he thought he would snap. It didn’t help not knowing what was ahead. What the fuck was he doing here anyway? He fought the urge to grab his bag and run out the door, knowing he would be caught before he even hit the street. He didn’t want to see this man angry. Not again.

Spike shook his head, blocking out the images playing in his mind. It was all over now. That’s what they’d promised him anyway. All safe and sound, puppies and rainbows. Bollocks. Bloody fucking bollocks. It would never be over. And he would never be safe.

“You hungry, boy?”

The sharp voice made him jump and he turned around, hands clenched in fists. Run, run, run little rabbit.

“Hey, easy there. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

Liam was watching him cautiously. He seemed tired and stressed, but his voice had softened and Spike found himself relaxing. Not completely though. Never that. “Didn’t scare me. Just…” He looked away. “Yeah, I could eat.”

Liam studied him and the silence unnerved him. Silence never boded well. Silence usually came right before…

“Pizza OK?”

Spike nodded, still not looking up. Right now even bread and water would sound heavenly. His stomach rumbled and he bit his lip. He would eat and then… he didn’t even bother completing the thought. He wasn’t going anywhere. They both knew that.

He could hear Liam on the phone, ordering pizza with pepperoni and extra cheese. Ignoring the cramps in his belly, he looked around the living room. It wasn’t the dump he’d insinuated. Actually it was rather cosy. Small, yes, but each piece of furniture seemed to have been chosen with care and the place had an overall friendly atmosphere. Sure there were a couple of books lying around, some CDs in a heap on the floor and a T-shirt flung over the back of the couch but then again this was a bachelor’s patch. Or so he assumed. No pictures of lady friends, no smell of perfume lingering in the air, no Barry White forgotten in the player.

“It should be here in about 30 minutes. If you want to take a shower, the bathroom’s over there.”

“You saying I smell?”

He hated the disdain in his voice but he just couldn’t stand this. He was only here out of pity anyway. They couldn’t find a place for him in such short notice, it being Christmas Eve and all, so Liam had offered to take him in over the holidays. Well, offered it with a sigh and clenching the bridge of his nose, the prospect of having someone like Spike in his home obviously giving him a headache. And he did smell. Of course he did. After all he’d been locked inside that room for two weeks. Or had it been longer? He didn’t know and he didn’t want to care.

“A little.” Liam grimaced and smiled when Spike raised his eyebrow at him. “OK, a lot. Like a dog, actually. Go ahead. You’ll feel better.”

Spike clenched his jaw but headed for the bathroom anyway. Nothing would ever make him feel better. As he was closing the door he froze. There was no lock. And the thought of getting naked with nothing but an unlocked door between them made his stomach turn.

“Something wrong?”

He flinched away from the warm hand on his shoulder. Liam backed slowly, blushing.

“Sorry. I didn’t think…”

“It’s OK. Listen, I have no other clothes anyway so…”

“Oh shit, I didn’t think of that. Hang on.” Liam walked swiftly into what Spike assumed was the bedroom and, after some cursing and shuffling, came out again with a pair of sweats and a soft T-shirt in his hand. “Here.”

Spike stared at him, then down at the small pile being pushed toward him. He swallowed. “Yeah, thanks.” Clutching the clothes in his arms, he closed the door, then rested his forehead against the smooth wood, breathing deeply. Nothing would happen. He was safe. Slowly he straightened and started peeling off his dirty clothes, ignoring the way they stuck to his body in various places. It was all over now. All over now.

The hot water stung his skin but it felt good. He kept his eyes closed as the tinted water ran down the drain. Washing it away. Washing it all away. Yeah, right. He made no sound as the tears mingled with the hot water. Daddy would have been proud.

A soft knocking on the door brought him back and he quickly turned off the now cold water.

“Pizza’s here.”

“Thanks. I’ll be right there.”

He got out and dried himself gingerly, making sure not to look at himself in the mirror. The clothes were soft and smelled nice. Like Liam…

Oh shit.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He sat down on the toilet and closed his eyes.

Not that Liam wasn’t hot. Hot as fire actually. And not like he hadn’t looked like a bloody hero when he’d swept in and pushed the old man away from Spike, eyes dark with rage, fists clenched and inches away from punching the bastard. He’d looked huge, like a giant, and Spike had just stared up at him from the floor, too shocked to even pull up his pants.

So he knew what this was. Hero-worshipping. Not the first time he’d gotten his heart all in a wrench because of someone being nice to him. Last time he ended up with ten stitches and memories bad enough to make him actually happy when he was dragged back home.

But Liam wasn’t like that. He would never…

 _Oh for God’s sake, you twit. The man isn’t even gay. He’s your fucking social worker and he can’t wait to get rid off you._ Spike shook his head angrily. _Don’t go there again, you fool. Stop wishing for things you cannot have. Not like Liam would ever want you even if he is gay. Just look at him, he can have whoever he wants so why would he even look at a whore like you?_

But it was a lovely dream. And Liam would be nice. Wouldn’t beat him. Wouldn’t…

“It’s getting cold!”

“I’m coming!” Returning to reality, Spike stood up and pulled on the sweats. They were much too big but he didn’t care. At least for tonight he could pretend he belonged here.

\-----

Liam caught himself glancing towards the closed door again and again, trying to remember if he’d left any razorblades or other sharp objects lying around. He was a bit worried about the boy staying in there for so long, not that he really expected him to do anything drastic but better safe than sorry. After all, he’d been through hell… God, worse than hell. How could anyone survive such a treatment?

Even hovering outside the bathroom door, listening, all he could hear was the steady sound of running water. It didn’t even sound like Spike was moving in there. Liam contemplated taking a quick peek, but he’d recognised that frightened look in the boy’s eyes, right before he closed the door. Worried, he turned away, hoping he was doing the right thing.

He had to admit he wasn’t exactly happy when he’d been forced to take the boy, William, in. It had been a long week, each case worse than the one before and he’d been looking forward to some quiet time alone. He’d been working like a madman these last two months since Wes moved out. Hated coming home to the empty apartment, preferring to work his ass off until he fell into bed, too exhausted to notice how cold it felt without him. And this was the first time he’d felt that maybe he was getting over it. That maybe he could go a whole weekend without calling in at work just to occupy his mind with something other than the memory of soft kisses and harsh words. And then this happened.

He’d become so furious when the file was dumped on his desk. As soon as he’d read through it, he’d known something awful was happening in that home and probably had been going on for a long time. All the reports indicated it and still no one had taken action and actually removed the boy from what, to Liam, was clearly a life-threatening situation. Just ‘Should be kept under supervision’ and ‘Needs to be looked into’ again and again without anything ever being done. It was a disgrace. All Liam needed was a trip to the boy’s school, where he hadn’t been seen for weeks, and a quiet talk with his teacher to get a court order to invade the boy’s home.

He still got chills when he thought about it. God, the smell! Not to mention the empty bottles and obvious evidence of drug use. But that was nothing compared to what he’d seen in that room…

“You said something about a pizza?”

The low voice made him jump. The boy was leaning against the bathroom doorway, hair wet and curly, T-shirt still in his hand. His scarred chest glittered with drops of water and Liam’s gaze unconsciously followed the path of fine downy hair travelling down to the low riding sweats. As the boy stretched to pull the shirt over his head, his stomach caved in, making the pants drop further until they barely hung onto bony hips.

Liam swallowed.

“It’s in the kitchen. In there. But you can eat in here if you want. We can watch some TV. Or not. Whatever you like.” _Shut up you idiot. Stop babbling! God!_

“OK.” Spike smiled shyly and together they walked to the kitchen, accidentally bumping into each other when they both tried to walk through the door at the same time.

Liam thought he felt the boy flinch, but it must have been his imagination because, when he turned to apologise, Spike was still leaning against him, the heat of his body scorching Liam’s skin.

He swallowed again.

“You want a coke or…?”

Spike looked up at him and grinned. “Unless you fancy giving me a beer?”

Liam couldn’t help smiling back. It was a relief seeing the boy show some normal teenage behaviour. “Coke it is, then.”

He reached for some glasses, trying to ignore the way Spike pouted playfully and unconsciously rubbed his elbow. As they settled down with their food on the small couch in front of the TV, Liam made sure to have as much space between them as possible. He didn’t want to scare the boy or give him any reason to doubt his integrity. Didn’t matter if he was feeling some doubt himself. Spike needed to feel safe, to feel that Liam was someone he could trust. Too many men had abused him; Liam wanted to make sure Spike knew he wasn’t like that.

The boy was way too skinny and there were old scars and new bruises scattered on his body, but they couldn’t hide the fact that he was truly beautiful. His movements were graceful but cautious, like he was ready at any sign of trouble to either flee or curl up to protect himself from blows and kicks. His blue eyes were too old, and yet they made him look so young it was heartbreaking. The high cheekbones, the unruly blond hair, the straight nose… ‘Beautiful’ hardly covered it.

Liam suddenly realised that Spike was watching him, obviously tense, and he blushed. Those were rather inappropriate thoughts, considering who Spike was and what he’d been through, and he just hoped he hadn’t revealed his thoughts in any way. Remembering the fluttering feeling the half naked boy had given him earlier made him blush even more. “Sorry, did you say something?”

Spike blinked and swallowed, then lowered his eyes. “Can I have some more?” His voice was submissive and he kept rubbing his elbow. Liam remembered seeing a report about it being broken some six months ago. He wondered what the boy’s father had used that time. A crowbar? Or maybe just the heel of his boot.

Spike was still sitting there, head bowed, and Liam realised he hadn’t answered him yet. “Yeah, sure. Have as much as you want. Of anything.”

He followed Spike with his eyes as he walked quietly into the kitchen. The boy was obviously starving and still he’d hardly dared to ask for more food. Once again Liam was filled with anger at Spike’s father, his former social worker, his teachers, his neighbours, every single soul that should have looked out for the boy, should have given him the childhood he deserved.

Trying to calm himself down, he flipped the channels, finally settling on some comedy show. Canned laughter echoed in his head, but he didn’t get the jokes. Spike came back, three more pizza slices on his plate, and sat down, not quite as close to the edge of the couch as he had been. Liam wondered if he should tell him to slow down, all that food would probably make him sick, but he looked so blissful. Well, he wouldn’t be the first one that got sick over Liam’s old couch.

Liam was feeling incredibly tired. He wanted no more than to snuggle up in bed and sleep for 12 hours at least. But something made him sit still while the boy finished his meal, sit still as Spike leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes, sit still as his breath got slower, deeper. And he only shivered slightly when the bony body went slack and slid sideways, head finally settling heavily on Liam’s shoulder.

Liam turned his head, the soft blond hair tickling his nose. It smelled like Liam’s shampoo and somehow that gave him that fluttering feeling in his stomach again. Like Spike belonged here.

Liam tried to ease away from under him but Spike’s hand suddenly reached out and grabbed his shirt, curling it up in his fist. He mumbled in his sleep and snuggled up closer. Liam sat frozen. The small body was warm against his chest and he awkwardly let his arm settle around the bony shoulders. This felt wrong somehow but he didn’t quite know why. He was surprised that the boy didn’t shy away from him, even in his sleep, and he felt oddly touched by the trust that showed.

Sighing, Liam leaned back and tried to get comfortable. So they would sleep on the couch for one night. What harm could come of that?

\-----------------

He woke up disoriented. His neck was stiff, his arm numb and someone was crying. The flickering light from the TV cast shadows around the room and it took him a moment to realise that the shivering lump in the corner of the room was a human being. Liam rose quickly, ignoring the aches of his body, and approached the boy cautiously.

“William?”

The sobs stopped abruptly, but were soon replaced by the sound of quick and erratic breaths. Realising how he must have looked, looming over the kid like that, Liam turned on a small lamp in the window, bathing the room in soft yellow light, and crouched next to the trembling boy.

“Sshh, it’s all right. It’s me, Liam. You have to breathe deeper or you’ll pass out, son.”

The huge blue eyes stared up at him in fear and confusion, and Liam wanted nothing more than to sweep the boy up in his arms and hold him until all his nightmares went away.

“Daddy?”

“Not your father, William. He can’t hurt you anymore.” Liam reached out hesitantly and touched the boy’s hair, feeling both surprise and relief when the small form fell into his arms. Liam held him tight until the sobs turned into hiccups, stroking his hair, whispering empty words of reassurance into his ear. How could things ever turn out all right for someone so troubled?

When the boy looked up towards him, Liam thought he meant to tell him something, so the wet warm lips on his caught him totally by surprise. He pulled back in shock but the whispered ‘please’ and the slender arms wrapping themselves around his neck made him hesitate. That tiny hesitation was his doom.

The second kiss was warmer, deeper. Liam opened his mouth automatically to allow the hot tongue access, his brain not having time to think about what he was doing as the boy snuggled closer and ground their groins together. So he didn’t tell his hands to stop when they roamed over the small body and then moved beneath the loose sweats. He didn’t tell himself this was madness as he cupped the perfect cheeks before moving to the front. He didn’t push the boy away, telling him this could not happen, this was wrong in so many ways as small hands popped his buttons and slid into his boxers.

He did however roll them over until they lay on the soft rug and undress the boy carefully. He did cover him in kisses, one for every bruise, every cut, every scar. He did feel himself drown in the smell of youth, fly on the forbidden touch of milky skin, and fall with a crash into the young man’s heart.

“I need you. Please. I need you to make it all right. I need you to be not him, not them. Please.” The broken voice made his heart ache.

“I’m not him, I’m not them. Never.” And as the words left his mouth, Liam believed them. This was not like that, this was not pain and violence and humiliation. This was care and comfort and love, love, love.

They took it slowly. Spike lay shivering and pleading as Liam kissed every inch of his body, putting pleasure to flesh that had only ever known pain. They were both crying when their lips met again but the salty taste only made it all the sweeter.

“Are you sure? I never want to hurt you. Never want to…”

“Please. I need it. I need you.”

Liam’s hands trembled as he reached for the necessities in the drawer of the sofa table. Thoughts of Wes and him fucking on that same rug didn’t even enter his mind so occupied was he by the sight and feel and taste of Spike. Of William.

The breach was gentle, the way made easier and slippery by plenty of lubrication. Liam held William’s gaze. ‘Not hurting you, my boy. Not now, not ever.’ There was no sound until Liam pushed in those last inches. Then Spike arched of the floor, moaning, and the ecstatic look on his face made Liam happier than he remembered feeling in a very long time.

“That’s it, baby. Let me be good to you. Show you how it can be, how it should be.” Liam drew out then pushed in again; slowly but steadily. God, this was so good.

“Please. Yes.” Spike bucked underneath him, whimpering. As the speed increased his moaning became louder and he dug his fingers into Liam’s arms, holding on for dear life.

“You’re so sweet.” Liam kissed away the tears that were running down the hollow cheeks. “So beautiful.” His thighs started trembling.

“Take me harder. Please. I need more.” The slender legs wrapping around Liam’s waist pulled him even deeper inside and he could feel his balls contract.

“I’m gonna take you to heaven.” God, so close. Liam kissed the bruised neck in desperation.

“Yes, please. Heaven. Take me to heaven with you.” Spike’s sobbing became louder as he pleaded, clenching hard down on Liam’s swelling cock.

“My boy. My sweet boy.” Oh God, oh God, oh God…

“Yours. Only yours.” With a cry Spike reached his peak, pulling Liam along for the ride. “Daddyyy!!”

With the blissful look of orgasm frozen on his face, Liam looked down to find the boy passed out; tear-tracks on his cheeks, white splatters of cum in his hair.

Oh sweet Jesus, what had he done?

\--------

When Spike woke up he felt wonderfully calm and content. The bed he lay in was warm and soft and with a smile he remembered Liam carrying him in here during the night. Spike yawned and stretched like a cat. He hadn’t slept so well in ages. There had been no more nightmares, only sweet dreams about Liam and kisses, warm arms holding him, loving words whispered in his ear. Spike rolled over with a smile on his face but it fell quickly when he realised he was alone. His heart sank.

He’d had an awful dream last night. He was eight years old again, hiding in the closet while his dad stomped around the apartment, looking for him. And as always, just when his dad opened the closet door, he woke up. The unfamiliar surroundings terrified him and in his confused mind he thought he’d been rented out again. So he scrambled away from the hot male body pressing against him in the dark and tried crawling for safety, hitting his head on the wall, eyes blinded by tears. That was where Liam had found him and then… Spike smiled.

It had been so wonderful. Better than anything he could have dreamed of. Liam had been… and then… and it had been so… He sighed happily. Frowning he glanced over at the other side of the bed and fear caught him again. Why was he alone then? Was Liam tired of him already?

Nervous, he slid out of bed, pulled on the T-shirt and sweats he found folded neatly on a chair and ventured out of the bedroom. There was no sound to be heard and he peeked into the empty kitchen before turning on the lights in the dark living room.

“There you are.” Spike walked over, a happy smile on his face, but the man sitting on the couch didn’t move a muscle. For a second Spike panicked, thinking him dead, but then he saw a faint movement of breathing. “Are you all right? Liam?”

“I’m so sorry.” The voice that had been so strong, so confident, now sounded small and broken. Spike felt his stomach twisting.

“What? Why?”

“I’m a monster. You trusted me and I… I…” Liam let out a loud sob. “I’m so very, very sorry.”

“No!” Spike kneeled at his feet, holding the clammy hands in his own, gazing up at Liam with loving eyes. “You saved me. You took me to heaven. You’re my angel.”

Liam shook his head. “I am the devil. I wasn’t thinking. I…”

“You said you would take care of me. Did you mean it? Or were those just words to get me to…?”

Liam finally looked up. “No. I meant it. I still mean it. But that doesn’t change…”

Spike shushed him with a kiss. “I could live here. I could live here with you and we could love each other. Forever.”

Liam blinked. “They would never…”

“I’m 18 in a month. We don’t have to tell them anything.” Spike wrapped his arms around Liam’s neck, whispering in his ear. “You just offer to keep me until then, saying you’re helping me get my life in order.”

“But…” Liam’s eyes flickered and he bit his lip.

“I need you. I want you. I…” Spike kissed him again, then looked him straight in the eyes. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Liam closed his eyes but not before Spike saw the hope spark in them “God, William. You can’t know that, you’re just…”

“Do you love me? It’s okay if you don’t, I still want to be with you. I just want to know. Do you?” Heart beating fast in his chest, Spike held his breath.

 

Liam stared at him and with a bang he realised that yes, yes he did. He did love this boy with the big blue eyes and the blond curls and the heart that had known too much evil. He loved him more than anything.

He crushed the boy in his arms and, between kisses and tears, whispered ‘yesyesyes’. They could do this. Spike was right, no one needed to know and in a month - only a month - it wouldn’t matter anyway.

It wasn’t until he was drowsily falling asleep after hours of loving and kissing and planning what was ahead that Liam remembered that today was Christmas day. He pulled Spike closer, burying his face in the warm and sweaty hair. Best Christmas present ever.

“Love you, baby.”

Spike bit back tears, pretending to be asleep. Liam was already far into dreamland when the reply was whispered softly. “You think you do. But for how long?”

Fin


End file.
